Page 35 of Eat Your Heart Out

“Hm?” Did I? No. In fact, I don’t think anything has happened to yesterday’s outfit since I stripped out of it when we entered this suite last night. At most, the wrinkles will be a problem.

Dawson’s thumb joins the assault, flicking over my clit in rhythm with the push and pull of his two middle fingers and I lose track of my thoughts. My back arches and my breath catches in my throat as he works me quickly toward orgasm.

“Give me these forty minutes,” he says again, pumping his fingers forcefully now, his hand as demanding as his request as he brings me so close to the edge I’d give him anything he asked.

Literally anything.

“I’m not ready to let you go just yet, cher.”

Lord, give me strength.

“I can’t wear the same underwear again,” I manage to whine, the words morphing into a moan when he presses his erection against the side of my hip.

“Leave them with me.”

My eyes fly open. “What?”

“You heard me.” He curls his fingers slowly along my inner wall, dragging them against my G-spot and making my body shudder in response, then he pulls his fingers from between my legs and rolls over, turning his back to me as he searches the bedside table for the box of condoms we pulled from all night. “You can go without.”

Breathing heavily, my pussy aching from the loss of him, I consider his words. Could I leave my panties with him? Go commando all day?

I mean, stranger things have happened…

But this is a pretty big day to be free-balling, all things considered.

The light beside his side of the bed flicks on and I roll onto my side to look at his strong back. With the sheets down around our legs, and Dawson on his side turned away from me, I have an uninhibited view of his strong, muscular back and that firm ass. I run my hand down his shoulder to his arm, then his side, and down around the thick curve of his ass. I give it a little squeeze because my restraint only goes so far—

He grunts and rolls back over to face me, a shiny foil packet in his hands and a glint of amusement in his eyes. He holds the condom out to me and cocks one eyebrow. “Stop groping me and hop on. I want to look at you.”

His words, that deep, rumbly voice, and the look in his eyes?

Heaven.

I lick my lips and hurry to climb on top of him, settling onto his muscular thighs. I place the condom packet on his abdomen and wrap my hand around his shaft. Fisting him, I stroke slowly, smiling when his head falls back onto his folded arms and his eyes close.

Switching tactics, I wrap a second hand around his length and use them both in tandem, stroking and squeezing gently.

“Fuck,” he moans, lifting his head to watch my hands. “You should see this view, angel.”

With a smile, I meet his gaze and tilt my head. “I don’t know, mine’s pretty good.” Returning my attention to his thick cock, I work him slowly, stroking, squeezing, rounding the head—and reveling in the sounds of approval he makes deep in his throat.

A girl could get addicted to those noises.

A drop of precum glistens on his tip so I lean down and swipe my tongue across the slit, pulling the saltiness of his arousal into my mouth.

Dawson groans, sliding his hands into my hair to hold me still, the head of his cock just a tongue’s length away from my mouth. “Open,” he murmurs.

I open my mouth and flatten my tongue, then his fingers flex in my hair, guiding my head down as his hips rise and his cock drives into my mouth slowly. I close my lips around him, moaning when the head of his cock presses against the back of my throat.

He holds me still, nostrils flaring as he relishes the feel of my mouth, then he begins guiding me up and down his shaft. I watch his firm ab muscles flex as he fucks my face, dragging my nails through the trail of hair that reaches from below his navel to the base of his cock. Dawson grunts, then pulls my head back with one hand as the other wraps around mine on his cock and he gives a firm squeeze. He slaps the head against my tongue with a growl of appreciation, then says, “Up.”

I climb onto him in a hurry, my pussy throbbing with need, settling over his thighs again while he quickly slides the condom over his shaft. His hands find my hips again, digging into my flesh in that dominant, possessive way of his, and he positions me above him, the tip of his cock lining up with my center.

He meets my gaze as he lowers me down, smirking when I groan at the feel of him.

“Fuck, angel,” Dawson murmurs, “you look so good on my cock.”

I rock forward, then freeze when my body shudders, my orgasm too damn close. His cock twitches within me as he patiently waits for me to proceed. The pure, unadulterated lust in his eyes makes me absolutely feral, and before long, I’m riding him so wildly the bed beats against the wall and the roar of the ocean waves outside is eclipsed by the carnal sounds filling the room.

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